


Operation: Desert Dream

by ranchelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cryptid Keith, Cryptids, Dubious Science, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Galra Keith (Voltron), Garrison trio, Keith's Desert Shack, Kerberos Mission, Lonely Keith, M/M, Rover is the best, emo keith, galra meteorite, klance, klangst, lance is a walking meme, mention of serious injuries, no gory details, rover - Freeform, sad keith, the debate that is violet or purple, youtube mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13282842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranchelle/pseuds/ranchelle
Summary: Lance watched, dread gripping him as a meteorite fell into the desert, taking the Kerberos shuttle down with it.Months later, he drives into the desert to search for the site of impact. He has everything he needs—Pidge’s drone, Rover, Red's map, and a jeep in his favourite colour.In the desert, the clouds are violet and everything beneath it dyed in its shade. There's no way out of here, and Keith yearns to see the blue sky again.(Otherwise known as the time Lance found a cryptid with cute furry ears in a hazy purple desert.)Written for theKlance Big Bang!





	Operation: Desert Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Klance Big Bang 2017, check them out!  
> Also, kudos to my amazing artist [Pabloura](http://auroura101.tumblr.com)! Check out their art!
> 
> It's my first big bang ever and I'm thankful for the amazing dragon mods and everyone there who's so positive and encouraging!

  
"Hurry up, Lance," whispered Hunk as he beckoned his friend over. "It's starting!"

The lanky boy sauntered over and plopped down and watched as Hunk and Pidge checked over the cameras once more in preparation to record the moment of the shuttle take-off.

Cadets weren't allowed out of the Garrison, so they sneaked out, gathered at their secret spot on the roof with a partial view of the launchpad with the wide, endless desert behind it. They weren't going to miss this for the world. With their naked eyes, they watched as a streak of light took off into the wide open sky. They lingered long after, soaking in the charged atmosphere of a momentous launch.

They stayed the rest of the day, listening to a list of stupid things Pidge's brother did as a kid until night fell. They watched the stars, dreaming of how it would be like amongst them.

"Look," whispered Lance as he pointed at the streak of light in the sky coming down, down, down.

They watched as the light shot into the desert. The wind picked up like a swelling wave, crashing over them, whispering of the crater the impact would leave on their lives.

  
*

*  
  
Like vultures to carrion the next day, the journalists announced with juicy glee that the shuttle headed for Kerberos has somehow gotten itself caught in a meteorite's trajectory and crashed back down to Earth with it.

 _"— the last known position of the shuttle headed for Kerberos was in the trajectory of the meteorite. Galaxy Garrison has told us that pilot error was likely the cause for this tragedy. It is unclear how the meteorite has gone undetected for so long. There are speculations that the meteorite is an unknown space object or illegal satellite. As far as we know, there are no clear images of this..."_  
  
  
The cadets, gathered in the common rooms, could only watch the news with a sense of dread.

_"...the area of impact is small, but the dust storm kicked up by the meteorite does not seem to be abating anytime soon..."_

The following week, all people could talk about was how the mission had failed and what that spelt for future missions. Reporters and media alike spun stories around the crew, stretching farther and farther from the truth of who they were. The Garrison pinned the blame on the pilot, Shirogane, and left it as that.

Nothing more than a smear on their reputation to be forgotten.

Space lost its allure to Lance as his idols were cast away like old toys.

Pidge's spirit only burned harder with anger at the inaction of the Garrison. She clung to the goal of finding the shuttle with sheer grit, and as much as Lance wanted to leave, he stayed so he could keep her out of trouble. And Hunk stayed to keep them both from breaking into pieces.

Not long after, Lance watched as the top pilot in his class storm off after punching an instructor in the face, never to return.

The Garrison continued to keep its silence, waiting for the dust in the desert to settle.

  
The dust never settled.

  
*  
  
*

  
Lance scrolled up the chat on his tablet. He must've read this a hundred times by now.

  
_18:17 RedPilot19 : located site of impact in the deadzone. will investigate more first thing tmr. tell Green im sending update tonight_

_18:18 BlueSharpshooter : sure thing. U done for the day?_

_18:25 RedPilot19: yeah_

_18:25 BlueSharpshooter: it takes >5 mins to send a msg and all you reply is 'yeah'? you gotta put more effort into it, buddy._

_18:25 BlueSharpshooter: so, any sightings of that desert cryptid you were looking for?_

_19:30 RedPilot19: not yet, but i will find them. they can hide but they cannot run_

_19:30 RedPilot19: was fixing equipment and took a shower, sorry_

_19:36 BlueSharpshooter: no prob, id rather talk to a clean pilot than a greasy, grimy one._

_19:37 BlueSharpshooter: also did you mean 'they can run but they cannot hide'?_

_19:43 RedPilot19: i know what i said. Desert Cryptic exists. he's out there. i can feel him._

_19:50 BlueSharpshooter: that's just downright creepy. are you sure you're not just being stalked? im calling him Dan the creepy desert cryptid._

_19:57 RedPilot19: Dan isn't that kind of guy_

_20:15 BlueSharpshooter: i can't believe you're taking the side of a creepy stranger you've never met over a handsome, cool guy like me!_

_20:43 RedPilot19: i think the connection is breaking up. if my msg doesn't get through then we'll talk tmr_

_21:16 RedPilot19: P.S. Dan is real ;)_

_00:20 BlueSharpshooter: pics or it didn't happen ;)_

The timestamp on the last message he had with Red remained unchanged.

There was an attached file sent to Pidge, a map update that was incomplete. Pidge managed to salvage most of it, but it was hard to pinpoint where the exact location of the impact was unless they sent someone to the field.

Lance missed Red's stubborn insistence on his findings, his random boasts of how he could sleep anywhere—" _once my head hits the pillow, it's lights out_ "—and their all-night long messaging debating the existence of aliens—Lance telling Red " _Aliens are real but dude, purple furries? I'd rather meet a pretty alien princess any day."_

Red's company took him away from the frustration at the slow progress they were making on the search for the Kerberos shuttle. He offered them information from his stealth trips into the desert. Lance had imagined he'd go in with Red and embark on the rescue mission together once crash location was confirmed.

Now there was nothing but silence.

Lance gripped his tablet tightly.

 

_Please be safe._

 

*  
  
*

 

"Any news from Red?" asked Lance, trying to be casual. Pidge must be as worried as he was, after all.

"Nope," said Pidge. "Not for weeks. You guys chat almost everyday, don't you? What about your side?"

"Zip. Zilch. Zero," shrugged Lance. The last he heard from Red was a whole month ago.

"Maybe he broke or lost his equipment? Our tech's encrypted so he can't contact us without the right stuff. And our stuff's not that easily available."

"That, or maybe he got caught by the Garrison," sighed Pidge. "But if really did get caught, I'd have seen it in the records by now."

"I'm sure he's fine, so don't worry your fluffy head over it," said Lance, gently messing up Pidge's hazel hair. There was nothing more they could do about it and Pidge's got a lot on her plate. There was no need to add Red to the pile. She needed to focus on the task at hand, and maybe this might lead them to "So, how's the latest test images from Rover?"

"Oh right," said Pidge, bringing up the video on one of her monitors and tapping at a blurry dark figure. "You know how Rover will automatically take videos when he detects animal movement? There's one from yesterday's footage."

Lance squinted at the short video. It was taken in the dark but the moving figure looked humanoid. And was that a tail?

"Is that...a giant lizard? Monkey? Are there even monkeys in that desert?"

"I thought it looked more like a werewolf," says Pidge, adding a correction filter to display the colours more accurately. "Those eyes looks like they're glowing."

"Those things on the side of its head, are those _ears_?" said Lance, pressing his fingers to Pidge's monitor to zoom in further. "Hold my mac and cheesus," gasped Lance as he saw the creature walk upright like a human, "that's gotta be Dan!"

"Dan?"

"Dan the desert cryptid Red was talking about!"

"Okay, I'm lost," said Pidge. "Are you saying Red knows this creature?"

"I don't know," said Lance. "He just said he felt a presence around him. He never really saw Dan. He's gonna be so jealous we got the footage of Dan before him."

"I hope Red's okay," sighed Pidge. "I feel like we should be out there looking for him, but I don't know where to even start searching."

"Hey, he's nothing but resourceful. Maybe he just got the mother of all lags. His connection's known to be pretty spotty at times."

Pidge chewed on her nail. "It's not a lag. It's like he just dropped off the radar completely. I can't even track the drone I gave him. Not even a beep of existence. It's like the drone was completely destroyed."

"You gave Red one of your prototypes?" gasped Lance. There was now one more bone to pick with Red. "You wouldn't even let me _touch_  them!"

"Well, he's our best informant out there. I've got to outfit our guy with something good," said Pidge, rolling her eyes.

"A secret agent with a handlename like ' _RedPilot19_ '? Pssshh," dismissed Lance. "Agent _BlueSharpshooter_  sounds so much cooler."

"Geez," groaned Pidge. "What's wrong with just ' _Blue_ '?"

Lance eyed her, the answer was so obvious she needn't have asked. "Well, I can't lose to _RedPilot19_ , can I?"

"Colour, job, age. What's your beef with Red's generic username?" chuckled Pidge, tapping the keyboard of her workstation set up in her room— a private room off the records that Lance swore she must gotten by hacking something important. "Hey, you're missing a number."

"Fine, I'm ‘ _BlueSharpshooter18_ ’ from now on," said Lance, shooting her a finger-gun. "'18's way more awesome than '19'. I've got him totally beat there.”

"Come on, stop trying to one-up Red and help me calibrate my equipment," said Pidge, smiling and shaking her head. She knew Lance was just trying to keep things light.

"Dealing with equipment is Hunk's job," said Lance, leaning an arm on the back of Pidge's chair and flipping through pages of printed information. He went down the list of patrons and sponsors and raised a brow at it.

"Hey, we've got a couple of anonymous patrons from the Garrison. I hope they're not like, spies or something."

"Doesn't matter if they are. They'll get the same information as everyone else," said Pidge, pushing herself away from the workstation and printing a hardcopy of some maps.

Including the one she gave Red, Pidge had already lost two more of her drones to the desert. Her drones were trackable, but due to some strange magnetic force inside the desert, connection to them were slow and delayed. The drones couldn't navigate on their own past a certain point. They needed someone to constantly calibrate them in the field.

She passed another stack of freshly printed papers to Lance.

"Cool," said Lance, plucking a pencil from behind Pidge's ear and circling out the entrance and mapping out the route on his copy. " _’Operation: Desert Dream’_  is a go."

Ignoring Lance's bad naming sense, Pidge looked straight at the screens of her workstation and said quietly, "You can still back out now if you want to, you know. It's my family that's missing. It should be me who should be out there looking for the shuttle— "

Lance looped an arm over the chair and poked her cheek with a finger. "I need you to direct me once I'm out there. You're the best person for that, _comms officer_."

Pidge slapped his annoying hand away and growled, "At least let Hunk go with you."

"Hunk? No way. He throws up every time he goes near the barrier," said Lance, rolling his eyes at her. "It's gotta be me. I'm the only one with the _stomach_  for this mission."

"Then Hunk can do the comms. I'll go—"

"I'm telling you it's fine, Pidgey-pie," grinned Lance, going for the kill with both hands and ruffling her hair to fashion a bird nest out of it. He paused in his movement as a photo of the purple-hazed desert flashed on Pidge's largest monitor. He rested his hands on her shoulders and looked at the barren landscape.

Pidge had lost her family. Red was missing. He lost his hopes and dreams the night the meteor fell. He wasn't going to lose his friends too. There was nothing to lose and everything to gain if he took this step.

"This is what I want."

 

*

*

 

The sky was purple, and the land all around him were all tinged in that same shade.

"Hey, Baby Blue, let's take a break here. This overhang looks pretty romantic, don't you think?"

Lance chuckled as he pulled out a solar sheet from the back seat to lay out in the midday sun and dug out a pouch of energy gel. His jeep was blue, with removable frames supporting a soft tarp-like roof that could easily make way for more space if he managed to pick up, say, big-ass meteor fragments.

Or, hopefully, three grown men.

The months they took to get the funding and equipment they needed were long and hard, especially for Pidge. Lance knew they had to please their patrons without antagonising the Garrison too much. The Garrison didn't exactly approve of the public gaining access to the crash site.

They knew better than to ask for permission.

Pidge's informant, _RedPilot19_ , had already done the groundwork, giving them the locations of unguarded entry points. Lance simply took one of those. He refused to let Red take all the credit. After all, Red must have had his own reasons for doing this. Besides, Pidge already heaped enough praise on him, and Red's ego didn't need more stroking.

Pidge and Lance planned the next step once Red mapped the way into the desert.

They presented a simple objective: to have Lance try to locate the centre of the impact and get samples. They pledged to make daily short videos for the public and for their sponsors: a more detailed report of their findings. Needless to say, their proposed plan attracted a lot of curious dabblers as well as researchers who decided to back their project. It wasn't exactly legal, which made their backers all the more enthusiastic.

Hunk, sweet _sweet_  Hunk, had packed almost a month's worth of rations for him even though they had only planned for a ten-day expedition. Lance calculated two weeks shouldn't be a problem if he was careful.

The animals who came out of the desert months after the meteorite strike were found to be disoriented, dropping dead moments after they left the area of the purple haze's influence. The findings showed it to be mainly organ failure, and upon further investigation, Garrison scientists found out that the animals' stomachs were empty—they hadn't drank or eaten in a long time.

Hunk made Lance swear to eat and drink regularly during his week-long trip.

And so, Lance, heedful of Hunk's words, took a sip from his canteen and chewed the other half of an energy bar left over from breakfast. Food tasted bland in here and water didn't do much to slake his thirst. After the third day, his appetite had waned to non-existent. He wouldn't have bothered with sustenance if not for Hunk's programmed reminders going off regularly.

Maybe that was why the animals stopped eating.

Between the three of them, Lance was really the best person for the job. He knew how to take care of himself and was quick on his feet, easily getting himself out of a tight spot. He even made sure to keep up a morning moisturising routine. _Got to look good for his adoring fans on YouTube_ , he figured.

Their subscribers skyrocketed ever since the first video showing him driving down the desert and naming the rock formations after famous celebrities, throwing pick-up lines at his jeep and singing made-up lyrics about the desert— which launched a huge internet debate on whether it should be 'purple' or 'violet'. He took a different side every day.

Teens laughed at his jokes and academics used his footage for research. With their popularity as leverage, Pidge managed to finagle more funds and equipment out of a reluctant Garrison just by the second day of their mission.

Today was another day spent following the route Red had marked out on the map. He went off-track a couple of times when Rover couldn't calibrate properly. That, and the drudgery of navigating the seemingly endless desert helped him gain a grudging appreciation for Red's work.

The sun was about to set, and he needed to record it for Pidge and Hunk to edit. He checked through the messages Pidge had sent to his tablet for today. It wasn't a bad day, seeing the messages took only minutes to send both ways. He imagined Hunk geeking out trying to figure out the correlation between the density of the purple haze and the connection speed.

His tablet beeped softly once more with Pidge's last instructions of the day:

_Make the video meme-worthy._

Lance chuckled as he adjusted his tablet and propped it up on a mini tripod, placing it on the hood of his jeep and began to film.

He slung his guitar around his neck and strummed a simple four-chord pattern and sang some made-up lyrics.

 _Here in the desert there's nothing but sand_  
_But hey look here's a one-man band_

 _There's lots of sand and everything's purple_  
_I guess I'm goin' in one big circle_

 _I say 'purple' cos it's hard to rhyme violet_  
_Yeah, the only word I can think of is 'toilet'  
_

He tried a few more lines, but it didn't rhyme. Oh well, Hunk could always make it funnier with his edits. He took the tablet in his hands and spun it around slowly to film a 360 degree view of the sunset.

He followed up with a little extra, putting on a pair of sunglasses and doing a short shuffle, ending it with a dramatic dab. And just for the teens, he took a video of himself drawing a dick in the dirt. Childish jokes like these never got old.

"That ought to do it," said Lance to himself as he checked the footage once before plugging the tablet to Rover— Pidge's diamond-shaped drone built for navigation and communication. It would probably take the rest of the day before the video files got to Pidge's workstation.

He thought he heard some rustling nearby, but he saw nothing. Maybe it was just a small animal. He had come across some wildlife, but they all scampered away once they spotted him  
  
  
*

*  
  
  
By the end of the week, he knew he'd crossed over to what Red called the 'dead zone' when Rover in his back seat beeped twice to tell him it could no longer auto-calibrate its location.

It was going to be really hard to contact the outside world. If he was lucky, Rover could still get him a connection but it would take hours, maybe even days, for data to get sent out to Pidge. He looked at his maps, and figured he could explore for a day and come back to this point either by nightfall or the next morning to send his daily update.

The ominous purple was like a fog blanketing the place. There was a twinge of something sharp and metal in the air and he could almost taste it as he inhaled. His equipment didn't pick up anything hazardous. There was no difference in the quality of the air between the spot he was standing on and outside the desert. Hunk's Geiger counter in his hand was running numbers. The samples he'd tested showed no foreign particles. Whatever was in the air wasn't tangible. It was energy. Energy that turned the light purple.

He put away the equipment and scrolled through the tablet and checked the maps. He was still on schedule and had a comfortable few more days to chart out the place and collect more samples. With any luck, he could find where Red left off and reach the site of impact tomorrow evening.

Pidge had wanted him in and out in a week, but he'd insisted on two. The Garrison had announced that no one would come out alive if they stayed in there for a week but Red proved them wrong by claiming he lasted two whole weeks in here. If Red could do it, so could Blue.

While waiting for Rover to calibrate, he idly tapped on his tablet and scrolled up the messages, his heart fond and heavy as his eyes flickered over some of the older messages in his chat history.  
  


_Blue has changed their username to BlueSharpshooter  
_

_07:03: BlueSharpshooter: bluesharpshooter's the name winning hearts my game_

_07:09: RedPilot19: what does that even mean why did u change ur name_

_07:13: BlueSharpshooter: that means my name is better than urs. also_

_07:18 RedPilot19: r you really a sharpshooter? you took firearms training?_

_07:24 BlueSharpshooter: of course i did. it's basic training everyone-- wait, you rly are a pilot? were you from the garrison?_

_07:29 RedPilot19: i was in the fighter pilot program. didn't graduate though_

_07:33 BlueSharpshooter: you in the fighter pilot program too? i just got promoted to fighter this term._

_07:34 BlueSharpshooter but u know, stuff happened. like a meteor crash. not a good time right now._

_07:40 RedPilot19: yeah. not a good time now._

_07:48 RedPilot19: i'm gonna check out the dead zone, going off now_

_07:53 BlueSharpshooter: catch ya tonight?_

_07:59 RedPilot19: Sure  
_

He was in the dead zone and the sun was setting. The sky looked heavy, wispy purple clouds making it otherworldly. It felt like he wasn't on earth. Like he was on an alien planet, and maybe he wasn't completely wrong.

Everything around him was tinged purple, the blue of his jeep and the brown of his skin looked all wrong. He took some photos of the sunset while Rover beeped, telling him it was done calibrating. Lance checked the drone and was logging down the settings on his tablet when he heard some rustling.

He thought he saw glowing eyes on a shadow sneaking towards his jeep. It was getting darker now, but Lance had good eyes—a requirement of anyone going into pilot class—and he knew he wasn't seeing things.

He grabbed the green 'bayard' from the compartment under the front seat— an energy-charged weapon with a grappling hook that Pidge named and developed for self-defense—and carefully made his way around his jeep. It was large. If it was a wolf or bear or some sort...he shook his head. He hadn't seen any of those so far. The animals he did come across exhibited no interest in him or his jeep.

And then the shadow moved, around the jeep and reaching for the front. The creature was large, humanoid—hell, it was wearing human clothes?

Lance blinked.

The shadow paid no heed to him and grabbed Rover off the hood of his jeep.

"Shit!" cursed Lance. The shadow turned around at Lance's voice and he had a clear shot. He took it, but the shadow was fast, avoiding a straight hit to its chest. The bayard's hook grazed it, its charged edge sending a strong shock to its target. The creature howled as it dropped Rover and fell to its knees.

Lance closed in like a hunter, swift and wary. He couldn't afford to lose Rover. The bayard auto-reeled in the hook and he got ready to take another shot.

He watched as the creature rose up to its full height—it was huge—almost as tall as Lance. It was bipedal too, and he'd thought it human save for its large, cat-like ears and what was probably yellow or orange glowing eyes in this purple tinted world.

_Oh my god, he thought, it's Dan._

He froze on the spot as he watched Dan reach for Rover.

_Rover—_

That thought snapped Lance right out of his stupor.

"Oh no, you don't," snapped Lance. No way in hell did he want to find out what Pidge would do to him if something happened to Rover.

Dan dodge-rolled to avoid his next shot like a seasoned ninja and picked up Rover, tucking it under his arm like a football and sprinted off into the dark. He could see a long rope whip around behind the thief—Lance gasped when he realised it was a tail.

"Give it back!" yelled Lance as he gave chase. He felt panic rising in him. Daylight was running out and if Dan got away, it would be almost impossible to retrieve Rover in the dark. Lance looked ahead and spotted some larger rocks. Given the speed, Dan was probably gearing up to climb over them.

Lance managed to close the distance and when Dan started to climb, he took aim and shot the bayard's hook at it. The wire wound itself around the creature's legs and Lance tugged at it.

The drone-thief fell hard to the ground on his back with a yelp and struggled to free itself from the bayard's cord.

"Give Rover back or I'll shoot you so full of sparks you'll be dancing for weeks," snarled Lance.

The strange cat-eared humanoid howled.

Lance started at the sound. The howling sounded pretty human. Was Dan originally human?

The thief froze for a second, then his gaze moved to the drone in his hands and back at Lance. He seemed to be looking for an opening, slowly wriggling out of the bayard's grip on his leg.

The fear of losing Pidge's drone took over and he made good on his threat. He took a breath and activated the tranquilizer function on the bayard.

Spikes reared out of the hook, digging into the thief's leg. Pidge had really put the kitchen sink in everything she made. Dan yelped at the sting and struggled to pull the cord off, but the tranquiliser took effect almost instantly, and he soon collapsed onto the ground, out cold.

Lance's brain was still trying to catch up to what he was seeing as he carefully trudged closer, his shoes crunching on hard, rocky sand. He'd just knocked a living, breathing, desert cryptid out.

"Dan is real," muttered Lance, shivering lightly, the chill of the desert reaching through his jacket as he took in the sight of the man-creature he just knocked out.

"I'm, uh, I didn't mean to hurt you, okay? I just, you know, self-defense and protecting my property," babbled Lance as he squatted down and nervously untangled the bayard from the man. He pried the drone back from Dan's fingers—and boy were his fingers strong and stubborn—and he saw that other than the ears, tail and skin that was either grey or purple, Dan didn't look all that....cryptid-like.

He gingerly pressed a finger under Dan's nose and heaved a sigh of relief when he felt breath. He didn't want to be the culprit causing the extinction of rare cryptids.

Rover and his bayard riding shotgun, he drove out of the dead zone to contact Pidge.

He set up camp at the edge of the dead zone, backing his jeep up against a large boulder he found. He came across a couple of caves but decided they weren't good places to camp—there could be wild animals living in them. He didn't want to be out in the open where anything could come at him from all directions. In theory, no animal under the influence of the haze should have the desire to harm him.

But there was _Dan._

Well, Dan just wanted his drone. There was still too much left unknown in this place. He was brave but he wasn't reckless. He set up a perimeter around him, placing sensors that would trip and set off an alarm if anything with a heat signature crossed the line.

He set up a little tent by extending the frames on the jeep and laying insulating fabric over it, keeping the warmth in as the desert turned cool at night. With luck, he should manage to get some sleep without worrying too much about Dan. Despite the many drawbacks, being a light-sleeper did have its perks. Rover and bayard in his arms, he curled up in the backseat of the jeep and waited for the sun to rise.

 

*  
  
*  
  


The night went undisturbed.

There was no sign of Dan, and he didn't really want to check back inside the dead zone until he had a solid plan figured out. Maybe Dan can't leave the dead zone.

"Good morning, fellow space cadets, explorers of the unknown! Big treat for cryptid fans today," said Lance, dishing out a big grin as he turned the drone's camera towards the dense haze of the dead zone.

"I've just had a sighting of Dan the desert cryptid. I actually got up close and personal with him—it could be a 'she', or 'they', but well, I'm sure he won't mind if I just called him a dude until he corrects me. Uh, where was I? Right, so last night, get this," Lance spoke in a grim tone, "Dan tried to steal my stuff. Not food. He wanted the tech. Maybe he needed to contact his home planet, who knows? So. Dan's kinda hunched over, about this high—" he cut through the air with his hand under his chin—"and he's got large, furry ears on the sides of his heads and glowing, yellow eyes. Maybe they're light brown, or orangey. You can never tell the exact colour thanks to all the purple around here," said Lance, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

Red would've loved to hear about this, thought Lance as he went on to speculate on Dan's daily habits. Pidge knew facts from fiction in his videos, and Hunk, _bless his funny bone_ , would edit and spice it up for the net.

He'd give almost anything to see Red's reaction. Sure, he'd have to concede that a cryptid sort of existed, but it'd be grand to boast about his amazing fight with Dan.

He wrapped up the video with some talk about more of the rock formations and explaining all the energy and signals his various equipment were picking up. These information would be for Pidge to disseminate to their patrons.

Rover, freshly calibrated, mapped out the surrounding location efficiently, giving Lance data he could match with what Red left behind. Pidge triangulated, using Red's drone, the spots he hung out most frequently. Red didn't leave coordinates as to where he had camped, but on Pidge's map, there were hotspots where Red lingered longest, and the brightest spot on the map wasn't far off.

Maybe there were clues to Red's whereabouts. Or more details on the location of the impact. Lance headed there, thinking it for the best to check it out before venturing into the dead zone again.  
  


*  
  
*  
  


Following the data Pidge compiled, he found himself outside a shack not far from the dead zone.

There was a bike next to the wooden shack. He parked his jeep next to it and grabbed the bayard. He locked Rover in a compartment under his seat just in case. He wasn't going to risk it getting stolen again.

Lance stepped up to the porch, bayard in hand. He called out and knocked on the door. There was no response, so he turned the knob, and finding it unlocked, he pushed the door in, slowly swinging it open.

"Stop right there," growled a voice as a man stepped out from behind the door, flashing a blade under Lance's jaw.

Lance squeaked in fright and stumbled back to the steps of the porch to get away from the knife.

"How did you find this place?" demanded the man, his voice raspy and muffled under a scarf.

"Woah, easy with the sharp, pointy object," said Lance, putting his hands up. He gave a sheepish grin as he dropped the hand with the bayard to the side, not letting go of it. He waved his unarmed hand and tried to placate the stranger.

"I said," growled the man, pulling down the dark scarf from his nose to his neck, "how did you find this place?"

"Wait," said Lance as his eyes widened at the familiar face before him. "Wait, wait!"

"What?" snapped the man. He hobbled two steps out the door, knife still poised to attack.

"Keith?"

The man's eyes widened at the name, almost dropping his knife. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, as if struggling to speak. His words were slow and there's a sort of stuttering huskiness to his speech now he seemed more shocked than angry.

"Who—who are you?"

"Holy shitcrackers! It _is_  you, mullet!" gasped Lance. His bayard fell to his side as his arm slackened in surprise.

Keith's eyes widened as recognition lit up in his eyes. "You're, uh, someone back at the Garrison—fighter? No, cargo pilot?"

"Rude. The name's Lance, and I'm not cargo-class anymore," said the lanky teen, looking annoyed. "Remember me?"

"Lance. Yeah, I remember you," said Keith, slowing bringing down his knife and sheathing it behind him. He stood upright, his brows creasing as he squared his shoulders with effort.

"So, what are _you_  doing out in the desert?" asked Lance, clucking his tongue and trying to sound like he didn't really care. Keith seemed pretty uptight and he didn't want to set the guy off again.

"If you're with the Garrison, there's nothing for you here," said Keith, a gruff demeanour settling over his initial anger and shock.

"I'm not Garrison, but sure, I'll get out of your hair if that's what you want," said Lance, hands up as he took two steps back.

"Wait," said Keith. Lance stopped without hesitation. "You have a drone with a connection. I need it."

"How do you know I have a drone?"

"You must have one."

"Well, assuming that I _do_ have one, what are you gonna offer me in return? You gonna invite me into your, uh, _place?_ Is it even yours? Or did you find it lying around? Also, is that motorbike yours?"

"It's mine," said Keith, slightly frowning. "Both the place and the bike. You have a problem with that?"

"Nope," said Lance.

"Bring your drone and come in," huffed Keith. Lance went back to his jeep to fetch Rover, drone in one hand and bayard still in the other as Keith stepped aside from the door and and motioned for him to come in.

The inside of the shack looked pretty cosy, With the edge of his bayard, he lifted the tarp covering some stuff on the side of the porch and saw a telescope and some monitoring equipment underneath it.

"Hey, stop that," snapped Keith. His pointy knife put away and hands armed with only biking gloves, Lance felt safe enough to do the same, clipping his bayard to the waistband of his jeans.

There were scattered parts covering much of the shack's floor—some half-built, some damaged. It looked like Keith was trying to assemble something.

"Don't touch my equipment," warned Keith again.

"No one wants to touch your stuff, geez," huffed Lance. Excited but still carefully hugging Rover in his arms, he stepped over the remains of half-built machinery on the floor.

And then he saw _it_.

A _tap_. Complete with a _sink_  on the kitchenette counter. It looked sturdy and well-designed considering the state of the shack in general. He reached out with a hand and slowly turned on the tap.

"Ahhh!" squealed Lance, jumping back like he'd seen a ghost.

Keith ran over to Lance and looked around. "What?!"

Lance pointed at the sink. "You have running water!"

"So?" said Keith, wondering what the deal with Lance was.

"Where's it from? Can I use it? Do I have to ration it?"

Keith scratched the back of his neck, confused. "Sure? There's plenty of it. There's a shower in the bathroom you can use."

Lance went silent, slowly turned off the tap, and made a beeline for the bathroom holding Rover awkwardly under an arm, his mouth agape the whole time.

It hastened his questions to follow.

"What are your intentions with Rover?" asked Lance, pointing at the drone under his arm.

"I need a connection to send some data out," said Keith. "It'll take a few hours at most."

Lance's question shot out. "Do I have your solemn promise not to bring Rover to any harm? No virus, no malware, no hacking into places? Of course, no physical damage too, which is a given."

Keith blinked at the speed of Lance's words, taking a moment to let it sink it.

"Swear it. Come on, just swear it and I'll lend it to you," said Lance.

"Yeah," stuttered Keith. "Yeah, I swear. Rover will be fine with me."

"Right!" said Lance, bouncing his leg impatiently as he pushed Rover into Keith's arms and explained, "You just connect your stuff to this port here for a connection and then you can, like, send some emails and stuff. Don't access my stuff either."

Keith nodded. "I just need a connection."

"Awesome! Now you're gonna let me use your shower as payment," said Lance, and then added in an obligatory threat almost too cheerfully, "and oh, if you break Rover, I'll break your equipment!"

Keith cocked his head, confused as Lance hopped into the bathroom with childish glee. He raised a brow in amusement at the sound of the pipes groaning as the shower was turned on.

"AHHHH!"

There was a loud scream from Lance.

Keith scrambled to open the bathroom door, "What happened!?"

Lance was there, holding the shower head in his hands, water spraying his chest.

"Why did you—" said Keith as he caught an eyeful of Lance's bare back.

"Shut the door!" screamed Lance again. Keith slammed the door shut. The door rattled, threatening to fall off its worn hinges.

Lance looked lanky but his shoulders were broader than it seemed under that jacket. And lower down, his legs were shapely. Not stick-like as he thought it might be under those jeans. Keith's mind was filled with nothing but the images of what he had just seen, and Lance looked fine. In all ways. Why was Lance screaming? Wait a minute—

Keith snapped out of his thoughts and yelled at the bathroom door.

"What's your fucking problem?!"

"You!" came the reply from within.

"What! How?"

"You have hot water! The fucking hell is this!" yelled Lance over the sound of water.

"I have a working heater, you ass!" yelled back Keith. The indignant anger gave way to exasperation.

"It's amazing!"

Lance laughed from within, and Keith listened, no longer desiring to argue. It felt like forever since he'd heard a sound like that.  
  
*

*

Keith hooked up his small workstation to the drone and quickly got to work, sending an encrypted message to Pidge to get him the Garrison codes to the Kerberos cryopods.

The connection was slow, and he waited in front of his monitor waiting for his messages to get through and for a reply. He bit his lip as he watched the small green light flicker to show that data was coming through.

_11:21 Green: !! you found the shuttle??? garrison security is rly tight now but hacking rn._

_11:22 Green: also wth did u mess with rover why is ur connection name unknown? what's ur location_

  
Keith almost laughed at Pidge's enthusiastic reply. He typed in another clue for her.

_11:27 UserUnknown: sending u map updates now_

It would take maybe another hour with the speed of the current connection to send her the detailed maps he made, but knowing Pidge was getting the exact coordinates of the shuttle crash site made him feel infinitely better.

The chat beeped as Green sent him another message.

_11:32 Green: wait a minute ive confirmed this is rover's connection but the workstation you're sending it from..._

_11:33 Green: wait. your location. waitwaitwaaaait. WAIT. You're not Lance._

_11:33 Green: Answer me this: i say vol, you say?_

Keith couldn't help the wide grin on his face as he typed.

_11:39 UserUnknown: Voltron. stop making fun of me, that was ages ago. hey green. this drone is yours? Rover, i mean._

_11:44 Green: hell yeah. good to see you, Red. take care of Rover. He's my most precious baby._

_11:50 UserUnknown: you too, green._

Relief swept over him as he watched the green flickering on his workstation, telling him that vital information was getting through bit by bit. Once he got the codes from Pidge, he could begin getting Shiro out of there. And if anything happened to him now, he knew she'd take over his work.

Just a little more to go.

Tomorrow.

_11:56 UserUnknown: file sent complete. check it_

_12:01 Green: received w no problems, thx. also, can't get the codes now, security too tight might take a while. send you as soon i get them._

_12:01 Green: also i take it you met Blue?_

Keith blinked at the message. He looked at the bathroom door where the sound of water came intermittently with long pauses between. There was no sign of Lance coming out yet. Wait—

_12:06 UserUnknown: Blue? Lance is Blue?_

_12:11 Green: oh cool, you've met. he was really worried about you. what's he doing?_

_12:16 UserUnknown: showering. almost an hour now. does he always take this long_

_12:22 Green: holy shit you have running water where u r right now ur in the middle of the fucking desert u know that??_  
  
  
Keith heard the sound of the bathroom door finally opening, and he quickly cut the connection and erased his history from Rover.

He slumped down on his chair and stared at his workstation. It didn't feel real. He had talked to Pidge and let her know where her family was. He didn't have to worry about the fate of the shuttle survivors resting on his shoulders alone anymore.

And Lance was _Blue_. The one person who kept him sane the whole time he was stuck here. Who genuinely just wanted to talk to him about anything. About everything. About him.

He couldn't afford to let his emotions engulf him right now. It wasn't over yet. Not until he was sure Shiro was safe and alive, far away from this place.

His thoughts are interrupted by a deliberate cough from Lance, who's wearing his long-sleeved shirt and jeans, with small towel around his neck. He turned and stood up, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Lance's face.

This was the boy who told him of his insecurities all those lonely nights when it got too much for the both of them to handle.

The boy who made fun of his obsession with cryptids and aliens.

The boy who stayed up all night talking to him even though he didn't have to.

"Lance?" croaked Keith, his voice choked and heavy.

Lance raised his brows at Keith's strange expression. "You didn't break Rover, did you?"

Keith shook his head.

"I'm done. You can have it back," said Keith, setting Rover gently on the coffee table. Pidge definitely would kill the both of them if he so much as scratched the drone.

"Cool."

"You've got something on your arm," said Keith, his eyes picking out a dark spot peeking out from his rolled up sleeve.

"Huh?" Lance looked at where Keith was pointing. He rolled up the sleeve a little further to expose a pretty large, dark bruise on his forearm. "Oh, this? I scraped it last night chasing some desert cryptid trying to steal my stuff."

Keith winced.

"That fella's definitely more bruised up than I am. I left him be, though, 'cos you know, catch-and-release should be the way to deal with unknown cryptids in the wild, wild desert, yeah?" continued Lance, chuckling and rolling up his loose jeans to show off a few more bruises on his calves where he bumped into some rocks during the chase.

"Behold, my battle trophies!"

Keith quirked a brow and snorted at Lance's black and blue 'trophies'.

"Those look like you just tripped and fell," he smirked. "And gravity won."

"Hey, rude," retorted Lance. "You try facing off a large, hostile creature with weird glowy eyes, big wolfy ears and growly teeth!"

Keith fidgeted, his eyes averting Lance's. Maybe Keith didn't like talking about these things. Maybe Dan attacked him too. It was pretty scary, but he understood not everyone dealt with such experiences by joking about it like what he was doing right now. He decided to let go of the topic and turned his attention to Rover, a blinking light telling him it was due for a routine maintenance.

Lance padded over to pick up the drone, sliding a panel open and poking at the tiny screen to allow the maintenance to run in the background.

The silence stretched, and Keith began to pick up the mess of equipment from the floor, pushing and throwing them into a pile on the side. He didn't have to work on these anymore now he could contact Green though Rover.

"So," said Lance, gesturing to the scattered parts on the floor. "What's the deal with all this?"

He could see remains of a broken drone. Keith had been trying to fix it. Obviously in vain. He probably didn't have the required parts nor the skill. The make of the drone looked like Pidge's hand. It was probably the ones she lost to the desert. Maybe Keith was the culprit. Or an innocent scavenger.

"So, what were you sending out? Or downloading?" asked Lance.

"It's none of your business," said Keith.

"Fine," grumbled Lance as he bundled Rover and his bayard to head to the door. "Anyway, I'm going to check out the dead zone again today. I'm already behind schedule."

"Don't go," said Keith.

"Awww, I didn't know you cared," said Lance, rolling his eyes.

"I mean it," said Keith, his hand absently scratching over his heart. "Don't."

"Okay, buddy, tell me one good reason why I shouldn't go," said Lance, levelling his eyes at him.

"It's dangerous."

"Duh. Have you seen this place? Besides, why are _you_  even here? There are better best vacation spots around , you know."

Keith looked away, thinking of a better argument and Rover caught his eye.

"I'm need the drone. I can't risk you bringing it out there."

"Last I checked, Rover's mine, not yours," said Lance, folding his arms and waiting for a solid argument.

"Just—" his brows knitted together in frustration as he tried to find the right words, "You shouldn't—you don't have to go."

"That's not very convincing," said Lance. "Look, I've been here a week now and I'm—Rover's fine. And last I checked, you're not my boss either."

"Fine," groaned Keith, conceding his defeat. "Do whatever you want. Just come back here."

"Is that a promise of bed and breakfast in your fine...uh...desert shack?" said Lance, raising a brow.

"You can have the couch," offered Keith.

"Good enough," shrugged Lance.  
  
*  
  
*

"Day 2 of checking out the dead zone," said Lance as Rover recorded his progress. He drove further in, following the last coordinates Red had sent to Pidge. He spent the afternoon searching and soon he spotted debris leading to a dense haze. Visibility wasn't too bad, but the air was thicker and harder to breathe. Rover tested it safe for humans, so he figured a mask wasn't necessary.

He put on a pair of protective gloves and brought with him a bag of equipment as he left the jeep behind, the way too rocky and unstable for his vehicle. Rocks crumbled as he climbed over a mound. He realised this was the centre of where the energy came from when he saw light from a still smoking structure not far below in a pile of dark debris in the centre of the large crater.

He took out a geiger counter Hunk made to measure the energy levels and inwardly gasped at the high readings.

"Better be quick," he huffed to himself as he jogged down the gentle slope into the crater, nimbly side-stepping some of the debris that looked like metal plates and shards. They looked too dark to be part of the shuttle, he thought, but it was still possible. There was a buzzing in the air coming from crystals scattered all around. He held one up to inspect and he found they were emitting light and energy. He could feel it vibrating from them even through his gloves.

He held the small crystal in his palm, and continued to follow the trail of light on the ground, periodically checking the readings on his equipment. The debris of metal and rocks around him were tall as walls, and he navigated into it, and then he saw something familiar—parts of the shuttle he recognised.

He found it. He found the lost shuttle.

He quickly logged the information and coordinates into Rover to send Pidge later.

With renewed vigour, he pushed forward, finding a trail of dark spots that looked like oil stains to him. The path before him was already cleared of debris. He followed the path, and soon found himself surrounded by walls of crystal-embedded rock and metal, and large chunks of the shuttle's plates. The oil stains were larger deeper in, and then he found an entrance into the body of the shuttle. The door was torn off, but most of the interior was intact. It was a good sign, he noted, since that meant the crew had a higher chance of surviving the impact.

And then his heart sank.

There was debris on the ground here, shards of sharp metal and that crystal-like substance on the walls covered in the same dark oil. Dark stains were smeared around the floor and torn up walls. Part of the wall was still smoking. It looked like there had been an explosion in here. The crystals here crackled and buzzed, as if threatening to ignite. He stepped back and his fingers loosened; the crystal in his hand fell out and bounced into a puddle of clear liquid closer to an inner chamber.

_BANG!_

Lance jumped. The small crystal pebble caused an explosion.

Okay, he thought to himself. Crystal and liquid don't mix. What liquid was this anyway? He carefully made his way into the chamber and was glad there were less crystals here. It seemed the large crystals were already moved out of the way.

Two cryopods lined the wall, the third on the ground insulated by a large wrap. He went closer to the third pod and saw Shiro in it, pale but still alive. His pod had large cracks in it, but the leakage was mostly stemmed by duct tape and the wrap that kept any leaking liquid contained. He heard the occasional hiss as liquid dripped out, but at this speed, he calculated it would still be months before the pod was emptied. The bottom of the pod was wet, condensation pooling, a trickle of it leading out.

By now, he had pieced the clues together: the clear liquid was probably condensation from Shiro's cracked cryopod. The crystals were volatile and reacted violently to water. Long shards metal and crystals were embedded in the wall, some darkly stained in the same 'oil' that was everywhere in this room—he swiped a gloved finger at it and sniffed—the 'oil stains' smelled like iron.

_Blood._

There had been an explosion. One strong enough to crack a sturdy cryopod. And then someone came in here and taped said pod up.

Judging from the condition of the surroundings just outside this chamber, there had been a pretty rough explosion.

There were still some things he couldn't figure out yet, but he knew his priority was to think of a way to extract the three pods out of this place without blowing anything up.

*  
  
*

When he made his way out of the crater, he could feel someone watching him. Did Keith follow him out here? He whipped around, trying to catch sight of whoever was following him, and saw a faint glow. He furrowed his brows and grabbed Rover, tucking it under his arm as he calmly made his way towards his jeep.

It was probably the desert cryptid again. He needed to grab his bayard and drive out of here.

_Wait._

If Dan knew the location of the shuttle, it could be dangerous for the cryopods. He made it so far because he was standing on the shoulders of Red and Pidge. He couldn't risk all this because he was being followed by a cryptid. He needed to lure Dan away and keep him away from the crater.

Dan hadn't realised that Lance noticed his presence yet. That could work to his advantage. He walked up to the jeep and slanted his eyes to look into one of the jeep's side mirror. The reflection on the mirror guided his aim and he shot the bayard out from under his arm.

He heard the creature yelp and he turned to see him fall to the ground. Lance had aimed higher, but it seemed that Dan's reflexes were fast, jumping back as soon as he saw the bayard strike out. He wasn't fast enough, as the bayard's cord had tangled itself around his ankle.

The creature frantically tried to free himself, but the more he pulled, the further the hook dug in until it was eating into flesh.

"Sorry, Dan," said Lance. "I just need you to promise me not to come around here again, okay?"

Dan growled as Lance approached him, his fangs bared and tail thumping desperately against the ground.

"I don't know if you understand human speech, but if you do, just nod or shake your head," said Lance, fingers ready to send a current through the tightened cord of the bayard.

"Do you understand me?"

A nod. The cryptid's fingers never left the cord, still trying to pull the hook out from his leg.

"You will not come near this place again," said Lance. "Do you promise?"

Dan's eyes narrowed, but seeing he had no choice, he slowly nodded.

"That's not so hard, was it?" said Lance as he took a few steps back and pressed the button to release the tension. The slack of the cord allowed Dan to finally untangle himself. Lance winced again and muttered apologies under his breath as he watched Dan's blood-slicked fingers pull the hook out of his leg.

Dan scrambled to his feet and limped away, leaving behind dark stains on the desert ground.

Satisfied seeing that Dan was heading away from the crater, Lance hopped back onto his jeep and drove back to Keith's shack. He didn't feel too good threatening the poor cryptid, but he knew it had to be done. He could come back and apologise to Dan after they got Shiro and the rest out of the desert.

*  
  
*  
  
"Hey, Keith, you wouldn't believe what I just—" said Lance as he pushed the door to the shack open.

"Keith?" called out Lance, looking around the shack. He peeked in the bathroom. Empty.

He knocked on the bedroom door and opened it. Empty.

He looked around the living room. A workstation, and next to it, a piece of cloth hanging over the wall—he tugged at it and it came off, exposing a large corkboard.

Lance took a step back when he saw the papers on the board generously smudged with dark stains. He could see the imprints of fingers over some of them. He squinted and read some of them; they were news about the shuttle and hand-drawn maps of the desert with routes and landmarks marked out with string and markers. Another piece of paper had a list of coordinates and codes. One more piece tacked at the bottom of the board had large words: " _DON'T FORGET_ ".

He leaned in close and braced himself as he took a sniff. The all-too-recognisable smell of rust was there. More blood.

Lance shuddered. This was quickly devolving into some horror movie he didn't want to be a part of.

"No one home?" squeaked Lance as he figured he'd search the bedroom for more clues. There was a cosy looking queen-sized bed in the centre of it and two boxes stacked up serving as a bedside table. A shirt was strewn on the bed. Looked normal so far.

Out of curiosity, he went to what looked like a dresser with two large drawers and opened them. The top drawer had one more set of folded clothes and some sheets. The bottom one had tools, a piece of tarp and a black trash bag.

Lance couldn't noticing the lack of socks and wrinkled his nose up at what that implied.

Maybe Keith did have socks and hid them all away in this bag. Was this a laundry bag? Or just trash? Just a peek, he told himself as he loosened the top of it and opened to take a look. A stench of iron hit him and he let go, reeling back from it.

He reached for the bag agan and turned it over to empty its contents on the floor.

Clothes—a shirt, a pair of pants, and a familiar jacket.

This was the jacket Keith often wore when he was out of uniform at the Garrison. There was a large tear in the back, and from the looks of it, it looked like Keith tried to wash it, but the stains weren't coming out of the white parts of the jacket. The dark shirt and pants smelled stronger, like he didn't even try washing them.

He held the shirt up and saw the same jagged tear in them on both sides.

The smell was getting too much and he quickly stuffed the soiled clothes back into the bag and put them back into the closet from whence they came.

Lance didn't like the way things were looking. The earlier encounter with Dan, the bloody stains in the crater, and now this—he could draw only one conclusion.  
  
  
*  
  
*

It was a little while after sunset before Keith came back, quietly opening the door, trying to sneak in unnoticed. An alarm went off and Keith started, staggering a step back and almost falling. He gripped onto the doorway, and glared at Lance, who shot up from the couch.

Lance calmly turned off the tripped alarm and pointed his bayard at Keith. He looked down at Keith's pants. It looked fine. No tear, no stain, but he couldn't be sure. He remembered the injury being lower down.

"Take off your boots and show me your legs," demanded Lance.

Keith narrowed his eyes and glared.

"Now."

Keith pulled the boot off his left leg.

"The other one," said Lance. Maybe he made a mistake and the whole conspiracy theory was bullshit like he wished it to be. Red was the one with all the theories.

Keith slowly did the same with his right leg, wary of the bayard.

Lance looked down and saw that Keith's right calf was swollen and bleeding.

He felt his blood turn cold at the evidence that his theory was correct.

"What did you do to Keith?" he snarled.

"What?" blinked Keith.

"You. You're the desert cryptid," said Lance, his voice shaking. "You murdered Keith and somehow managed to make yourself look like him. Are you wearing his skin or something?"

"I didn't—"

"Don't deny it," snarled Lance. "I found his bloodied clothes in his room. You killed him."

"Lance, let me explain," said Keith. He took another step back when Lance shook the bayard at him.

"Gods, I wish it wasn't true," said Lance, his eyes beginning to water. "This is a shit conpiracy theory. It's ridiculous. Fuck, what do I do now? Man or cryptid, I'm not killing you. But I can't let you go free after you killed my...my friend."

"Lance, can you just shut up and listen to me?" said Keith.

" _You_  shut up, you monster," growled Lance.

Keith took another step back at Lance's words. He wanted to run away. Away from Lance. Away from being reminded how he wasn't human anymore.

But he didn't.

He didn't because none of what he felt mattered compared to the lives of Shiro, Matt and Sam. He gritted his teeth and pushed down his instinct to get out of here. He needed Lance to believe him, to help him save Shiro. If he had to be exposed as a monster, so be it.

First, he needed to show Lance he wasn't going to attack.

He lowered himself to the ground and sat there, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Yes, I'm the cryptid you attacked just now," admitted Keith. "I'm also sorry for trying to steal your drone the other day.

Lance frowned. Some part of him was telling him that something didn't click. Why was _Dan-As-Keith_  surrendering himself so easily?

"I'm Keith," said Keith. "I swear it on my life." He needed to make Lance believe him. Even if it took his pride, or his secrets.

"Bullshit," muttered Lance, still trying to make sense of all he had seen. "Why were you stalking me back there? Trying to get me killed?"

"Trying to get you _not_  killed, ass," muttered Keith. "It's dangerous in there."

"I don't have any reason to trust you."

Keith's shoulders slumped as he looked away, knowing this wasn't the time to get worked up. He needed Lance to trust him. "Blue," he pleaded. "It's me. I'm Red."

Lance froze, staring at Keith like he grew a second head.

"Look," said Keith, knowing this was going nowhere while Lance was still in shock. "I'm just going to get up now and sit on the couch because my leg is killing me. You can tie me up if that makes you feel better. Then hook Rover up to my station or something and go talk to Pidge."

*  
  
*

Lance didn't tie cryptid-Keith up since once the man hit the couch, he snoozed like the dead. Lance did, however, hook Rover up to Keith's workstation and talked to Pidge while scrolling up to see their chat history.

It took a while, but Lance managed to sort his thoughts out after Keith woke up from his nap on the couch.

"You're really Red," said Lance, eyes still wide in disbelief. "Keith is Dan is Red."

"Your theory of Dan killing me was stupid," said Keith, stretching his arms over his head and turning his neck to work out the cricks. He looked at his bandaged ankle, wondering how tired he must have been to have slept through Lance treating his wound.

"But you being Dan is just as stupid," said Lance. "I mean, how is that possible?"

"How is 'being killed by a cryptid who then shapeshifted and pretended to be me' a more plausible theory than me simply being one?" snorted Keith, indignant.

"But you turning all furry, having cat ears and a tail—how?"

Keith shrugged. "This violet desert is weird and it turned me weird too."

"Purple," blurted Lance.

"What?"

"It's purple, not violet."

"It's violet," said Keith, a small spark lighting up in his eyes at Blue's familiar bantering.

Rover beeped, alerting them to Pidge's messaging them.

Lance tapped at the keyboard and covered his grin under his hand.

"She's got the codes."

Keith smiled back. They'll bring Shiro and the others back tomorrow.  
  
*  
  
*

"Hey, Blue, can we talk?" said Keith, his arms folded behind his head as he stared at the dim light swinging from the ceiling.

"Hit it, Red," said Lance as he climbed under the covers and mirrored Keith, leaning on his hands behind his head.

Keith was silent, and Lance knew, from his chatting with Red, that he was just thinking of what to say.

"So, food around here sure is bland, huh," began Lance.

"Yeah," said Keith. "Once you've been here long enough, everything just tastes like sand."

Lance chuckled. "How long have you been here? I'm close to two weeks. Gonna break your record soon, pilot."

"Update: my best record's three weeks, sharpshooter," grinned Keith.

"Darn it. Any side effects?"

"Food continued to taste like sand for a pretty long time after leaving the desert," said Keith, sticking out his tongue in distaste.

"Nice shack, by the way," said Lance.

"Yeah, I used to live here before I went to the Garrison," said Keith.

Lance turned his head, eyes widened. "No kidding."

"And I don't wanna talk about that," sighed Keith, giving a long, tired exhale.

"Sure," said Lance. "What do you wanna talk about?"

"Hmm. How about what you plan to do when you get out of here?"

"Eat," said Lance. "Like, everything. Just to wash the taste of sand out from my mouth. Milkshakes, cheese burgers, garlic bread, the whole greasy works. Gods, I miss those already. Watch me put on a seventh pack on my fabulous six." He rubbed his stomach for emphasis.

"Fries and nuggets sound good to me," grinned Keith.

"You're boring," said Lance. "Those are the most boring foods ever."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

"Shut up, Lance," snorted Keith, his cheeks beginning to tire from all the smiling.

"Make me," said Lance, grabbing a pillow and smacking Keith's shoulder with it. Keith took his own pillow and smacked Lance back, and they laughed as they bounced about trying to smack each other off the bed.

"I still can't believe you're Red," sighed Lance, a fond smile on his face.

"I'm glad you're Blue," said Keith, beaming back. "I like talking to you."

Lance blushed. He could deal with teasing and jokes, but an honest compliment? He turned face down and groaned into his pillow.

"What?" frowned Keith, wondering if he said something wrong.

"Nothing!" squeaked Lance. He peeked out from the pillow and asked, "So, what do _you_  wanna do when you get out of here?"

"I want to see the colour blue," said Keith, leaning back on his own pillow, feeling his body ready to give up on him.

"Blue, huh," said Lance. "The colour of the sky? Or the colour of my eyes?"

"Wait, your eyes are blue?" said Keith, jerking up and staring at Lance.

"They are," said Lance, opening his eyes wider to stare back at Keith, who stared with such intensity that Lance felt the urge to either back away or pull Keith closer and kiss him. Maybe do the second one, then the first one, followed by burying himself in a hole afterwards.

Keith had beautiful eyes. Dark and purple. Well, everything was purple here, but these eyes were really purple. Or violet. Whatever. It was a better purple than the murky purples that covered everything here. He wanted to brush the hair out of his eyes to see how his face framed those eyes—

"They look dark. I can't really make out the colour," said Keith, saving Lance from inner monologue on how pretty Keith's face was.

"Of course you can't," sighed Lance.

"I'm fed up of seeing nothing but violet."

"I feel you," Lance empathised. "Also, it's purple, not violet."

Keith raised a brow. "Are we still on about that?"

"Oh yes, we are," said Lance, waggling a brow. He yawned and pulled the covers higher.

"It's violet," Keith engaged. "Purple's not on the spectrum."

"Purple. The sky is blue and the desert is kind of red and it's all about perception. We can't exactly 'see' violet, y'know? Also, the alien energy is probably fucking with our eyes," muttered Lance.

"Violet. Maybe we can see it cos like you said, the alien energy is fucking with our eyes," chuckled Keith as he yawned. "Good night, Blue."

"Purple," mumbled Lance, determined to get the last word, but Keith was already asleep.

"Good night, Red."  
  
*

*

Lance got out of his jeep and jogged over to Keith, who hopped off his bike. They were in the dead zone, and Keith was looking away, looking uncomfortable in his changed appearance.

"Wow, I can't see your pupils at all," said Lance as he stared at those wide, glossy eyes that look like glass under the sunlight.

He noticed Keith subtly sliding a hand behind himself to tug the back of his pants down to his hips, allowing the base of his newly formed tail to sit more comfortably over his waistband.

Still, thought Lance, nothing beat those large, wolf-like ears on the sides of his head.

"Can I touch the ears?" asked Lance, his hands half-reaching for them.

"No," growled Keith, finding words difficult to get around. Lance retracted his hands and stuffed them in his jacket pockets.

"You speak!" said Lance. "I thought you couldn't speak in this form."

"Teeth," said Keith, refusing to speak more.

"Show me!" said Lance, bouncing on his heels in curiosity.

Keith huffed and then opened his mouth, pointing at the elongated canines on the side.

"Woah, you have fangs," said Lance. "Speaking of fangs, I have a real serious question. Our friendship might just hinge on your answer."

"What is it?" rasped Keith, his ears twitching as he suddenly felt self-conscious about them.

"Team Vampire or Werewolf?" said Lance, smacking his lips and pointing finger guns at him.

Keith snorted, choked on his laugh and ended up coughing.

"I'm serious, buddy," added Lance as he patted Keith on the back.

"Neither. They both suck," said Keith, not caring if his teeth made him lisp.

"No, they don't," said Lance, sounding indignant. "Only vampires suck."

"I'm Team Cryptid, remember?" said Keith.

Lance snorted a laugh. "Yep, that's you all right."

It turned out that two people made the job of bringing the cryopods out of the crater much, much easier. Keith had tried to go at it alone before, and the result wasn't good. He couldn't help but smile at how smoothly it was going now that he had both the equipment and the manpower for this.

"How is it the crystal in Shiro's arm isn't exploding or something?" asked Lance as they finished up wrapping the cryopods up in waterproof fabric.

"That won't happen," said Keith. "It's not the crystals that's volatile, it's the dust on it that is. And the crystals' energy amplify the reaction. Or so that's what I think it is."

"I see," said Lance. "So the crystal shard in his arm has like, already exploded once so there's no more alien gunpowder on it."

"Something like that," shrugged Keith.

"Hunk will definitely want to look at this," said Lance. "We should grab some samples."

They managed to get the cryopods out with a mini pulley system in place and Lance's jeep, and carefully ferried the cryopods back to the shack one by one.

"Matt first," said Keith, and Lance entered the codes for their cryopods. They had the pods hooked up to backup generators, fine tuned with the help of Rover the multipurpose drone and all they had to do now was wait.

The liquid drained through the pipes leading out the shack, evaporating the moment the substance hit the warm air, and they watched as colour slowly returned to Matt's face as the cryopod's machinery whirred.

With a hiss, Matt's pod opened and he staggered out into Keith's arms.

"Shiro, don't—" croaked Matt as he leaned against Keith, shivering as he slowly realised he wasn't in the shuttle anymore.

Lance took over from there and briefed Matt, who simply nodded and gave them an easy grin, adapting easily to his new situation.

They got Sam out, and with the both of them, made adjustments to Shiro's pod to release him safely. Once Shiro was out, they moved him to the couch and began treating his arm, which was beginning to bleed.

"His arm's in a bad shape," said Sam as he monitored Shiro's vitals and examined the muscles around the wound.

Matt shook his head as he applied a tourniquet on Shiro's arm. "There's a shard inside we can't extract unless we had the right equipment."

"It doesn't matter as long as you can keep him alive," said Keith. "We need to get him out as soon as possible."

"Pidge says she's assembled a medical crew and they'll be here tomorrow," said Lance, tapping at Keith's workstation.

"They should be here now," growled Keith, impatient.

"Knowing Pidge," said Matt, "she needs the time to make ensure the Garrison can't do anything to us once we leave this place."

"I'm proud of her," said Sam, smiling at Matt, then turning to the others. "And grateful to you all."

"No problem, prof," beamed Lance.

"He's waking up," said Matt, and everyone crowded around the couch as Shiro groggily sat up and waited for his vision to clear.

"How are you feeling?" asked Sam.

"My arm hurts," said Shiro, and chuckled when he saw his bandaged arm and realised he was stating the obvious. "Other than that, I'm okay."

"Good," said Keith, looking relieved for a moment, before his eyes seemed to harden and he turned on his heels to walk into his room, closing the door behind him.

"Is...he okay?" said Matt, blinking at Keith's sudden mood change.

Lance looked at the door, sensing that something was wrong. Keith was hot-headed, sure, but he ought to be happy that Shiro was fine. Maybe it was overwhelming with so many people here and he needed to have some time alone? He still didn't feel he should leave Keith by himself. He took a step, but Shiro placed a hand on his wrist lightly to stop him.

"Give him a moment," said Shiro. Lance nodded, and they used the time to catch Shiro up with all the information he had.

"How long have you been in here?" asked Shiro after they were told about the effects the desert had on living creatures.

"Almost two weeks," said Lance. "So that means I'll still be fine if I keep myself hydrated and get out of here in the next few days."

"And Keith?"

"I'm not sure," mulled Lance. "But he mentioned he was here just a little longer than me. His record for surviving here was three weeks, so I guess he hasn't hit that yet."

"Three weeks, huh," said Shiro.

"I haven't seen him eat or drink in a while, though. I've informed Pidge and she'll get the medical crew ready for that," said Lance.

"Thanks, Lance," said Shiro.

"We should get you back in one of the functional pods just in case," said Matt, pointing out Shiro's stained bandages. "Your bleeding hasn't stopped and we don't know what the crystal will do to you once we leave this place."

"I agree," said Sam. "Better safe than sorry now we've come this far."

"Totally," agreed Lance.

"All right," relented Shiro.

As Matt and Sam prepared a pod for him, he stood up and went to the bedroom, knocking on the door. He heard a grunt of approval and entered, finding Keith sitting on the bed, biting his knuckles and kicking at the floor. Shiro quickly closed the door behind him.

The lock was broken, but the gesture was nice, thought Keith.

"Do you want me to leave you alone and come back later?" asked Shiro.

"It's okay," choked out Keith, his voice shaky as he sat on the verge of crying. "You're not gonna remember this tomorrow."

"What do you mean?" said Shiro quietly, sitting down next to Keith on the bed. "Are you going to knock me out for seeing you cry?"

Keith chuckled. "I'm glad you're okay. Also, I'm not crying."

"I'm glad too," smiled Shiro, raising his good arm and lightly ruffling Keith's hair. "Thanks for saving me."

"I couldn't have done it without Lance and Pidge," admitted Keith.

His gaze rested on Shiro's injured, unmoving arm.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine," said Shiro, thinking Keith was worried about the stained bandages.

"You will be," said Keith, believing in it. "I— we'll make sure of it."

There was a moment of silence, and Shiro decided to dive right into the important questions.

"I heard from Lance it's dangerous to stay here for long. He's been here almost two weeks, and you've been here for what he thinks is three," said Shiro. Keith looked down at his hands, eyes averting Shiro's.

"Keith," said Shiro, soft and resigned. "How long have you been here?"

"I made frequent trips in and out of the desert at first but it got too troublesome and took too long, so I ended up staying," mumbled Keith.

"How long?"

"Four," said Keith, rubbing the knuckles of his biking gloves.

"Four weeks?" said Shiro, his frown relaxing a little. "We have one more functional pod. We can get you in there and once we get to better facilities, you can get treated."

"Four months," murmured Keith, looking up to meet Shiro's eyes.

"There are pods with hibernation functions," said Shiro, refusing to give in to panic when Keith needed him. "Matt and Sam are amazing with cryo tech, they'll know what to do. Maybe it'll take longer but you'll be okay."

Keith shook his head. "I can't leave this place. Not anymore."

"Why?" asked Shiro.

"I just can't," said Keith.

"We can keep you in the pod until we find a way," insisted Shiro. "There will be a way."

"No, there isn't," he gritted out, his lips twisted in frustration at Shiro not getting it. He grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled it up to expose a large jagged, starburst scar over his heart. It looked fresh, puckered, dark and angry.  
  
_  
In the aftermath of the explosion, he woke in a pool of his own blood telling himself he couldn't die until he got Shiro out of here. He had gotten up, moving like he wasn't mortally stabbed in the chest, struggling to mend the cracked pod. The drone had been damaged beyond repair. There was no way to contact Green. He couldn't give up here or his work would been in vain. He would endure._

 _He would not cry._  
  


Shiro blinked, his mouth agape as he looked at the scar.

"But you're healed, right?" tried Shiro weakly.

Keith gave a frustrated noise as he turned to show Shiro his back, the same, ugly scar on his skin, but with a small protrusion. Shiro inhaled sharply when he realised a shard of the same crystal in his arm also struck Keith, and was still inside him, right through his heart. There was no way they could extract that with their current technology and still keep him alive with that amount of damage already done.

"I'm a dead man walking, Shiro," growled Keith. "The only thing keeping me alive is probably me being in the desert."

Shiro closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe Matt, Sam or some doctor friend they knew could figure this out. He wasn't the science-iest of them after all.

"Don't tell Lance," said Keith, his voice more desperate than angry. "He might not want to leave if he knew."

"He'll find out sooner or later," said Shiro.

"Then let him find out later," said Keith.  
  


*  
  
*  
  


Keith and Lance took the first shift to keep watch while Shiro, Matt and Sam rested in the bedroom. They were so close to their goal, and Keith wasn't going to let his guard down until the very end.

"I can't wait for us to get out of here," grinned Lance, swivelling on Keith's chair. "I'm gonna buy all the pizza we can eat and gorge on them until we're sick."

"I can't eat pizza," snorted Keith, chucking a ratty cushion from the couch at him.

"Oh right, you're lactose-intolerant," said Lance, remembering Red bringing it up once. "That just leaves you the boring fries and nuggets, then."

"They're not boring," said Keith, rolling his eyes. "There's sauce. Like ketchup. And, uh, barbeque."

"Bo-ring!" chuckled Lance, hopping out the chair and plopping himself down next to Keith on the couch. "There's more to life than just ketchup and barbeque sauce, you know."

"Whatever," huffed Keith. He leaned a little closer to Lance, finding the warmth welcoming.

"You cold?" asked Lance.

"Not really," said Keith. He folded his arms.

"Wait here," said Lance, making his way out of the shack and then dramatically tip-toeing back in with a thin, fleece blanket. He draped it over the both of them and passed Keith a flask. "I always bring my own blanket and hot tea," he explained.

Keith opened the flask and sniffed. It didn't smell like anything much, but the warmth of it caressing his face felt comforting. He took a sip, grimaced, and capped the flask back on.

"Not your kind of tea?" teased Lance.

"Tastes like sand," said Keith, rolling his eyes, and Lance chuckled.

They spent a while in companionable silence. It was dark, the lights were dim, and Lance wondered how he came to be here, in the middle of the desert snuggled up to one of his best friends on a couch under his favourite blanket.

"Hey, can you pop your furry ears out at will?" asked Lance.

"I don't think so," said Keith, cocking his head at Lance.

"A pity," said Lance. "They were adorable."

"You're weird," chuckled Keith, feeling the warmth of familiarity in the way they were talking. "You think a desert cryptid is cute?"

"Rude, considering you're the weird one with the cryptid obsession," pouted Lance. "Also, Dan is the cutest of all desert cryptids. I wouldn't mind him around."

"Not what you said the last time," said Keith. "You called him a stalker."

"That's because Dan didn't even exist yet," said Lance. "And now I have seen him up close and personal, I'm telling you he's the best."

"You're the worst," huffed Keith.

Lance sucked his tongue and wagged a finger at him. "You mean 'the best'," he said. "Repeat after me, buddy. 'Lance is the best'."

"Fine. You're the best," smiled Keith.

"And that's the truth," said Lance.

"It is," said Keith, pressing his shoulder against Lance's. Lance had insisted he turned the heater on since they had electricity to spare thanks to the extra generators they prepared for the pods. Keith admitted it felt pretty good to just sit back and enjoy the small luxuries they had.

"Hey, uh, you up for snuggling?" suggested Lance, looking elsewhere, almost afraid to hear Keith's reply.

Keith patted the blanket on their laps. "Aren't we already doing that?"

"Um, like, closer? More snugglier snuggling?" said Lance, scratching a finger at his cheek.

"Sure," said Keith. If that was what Lance wanted, then it was what he wanted too.

Lance whistled an aimless tune as he draped an arm around Keith's shoulders. Keith shook his head and snorted a laugh, then slid his hand behind Lance's back and slung it loosely over his waist.

"Woah."

"No good?" asked Keith, watching Lance's face for signs of displeasure.

"No, no," said Lance, frantically waving his free hand. "It's good. Great, even."

"Okay," said Keith, giving him a lop-sided grin that dimpled his cheek. He _snuggled_  closer and tucked his head in the crook of Lance's shoulder, feeling safe and content next to someone who'd always been there for him. Someone he could trust. Someone he could love.

Maybe he was already in love.

"I think I'm in love with you," murmured Keith.

"I'm going to be an asshole and ask if it's Blue or Lance you love," said Lance, his hand nervously squeezing Keith's shoulder.

"What's the difference?"

"Well, umm, Blue is who you've talked to but never met, and Lance is, Blue plus, um— " he gestured to his torso— "this skinny body to go with it. I hope you're not disappointed by someone who doesn't look like Shiro."

"Why would I want you to look like Shiro?"

"Dude, have you _seen_  Shiro? He's built like a greek god," gasped Lance, waving his hand at the bedroom door in Shiro's general direction. "Anyone would pick him over me."

Keith lifted his head from Lance's shoulder—Lance found himself missing the weight almost immediately—and looked to the bedroom door, then to Lance's face, then for good measure, once more to the door and to Lance's face again. He huffed, almost like a petulant child, and cupped Lance's jaw in his hand to look him in the eye.

"I prefer you," said Keith.

In the face of those determined eyes, Lance could only squeak out a single word. "Awesome."

Lance fidgeted and Keith dropped his hand from Lance's face. He waited, knowing Lance was trying to say something.

"Can I kiss you?" asked Lance, and without waiting for a reply, he rambled on. "But if you don't want it, it's fine too. If you don't want this to move the way it looks like it's moving, I'm fine with it too. I do prefer to be kissed, cos you know, I've never really been kissed, like, on the lips in a romantic kinda way, but what I mean is, it's okay if you don't want to. You're still gonna be one of my bestest buddies other than Hunk and Pidge and the seven people in my family and— "

Keith leaned in to plant a firm kiss on those busy lips, which suddenly froze and stopped being busy. Lance's eyes widened as Keith drew back.

"You took so long I kissed you first," said Keith as a matter-of-factly.

"That didn't count," blurted Lance.

"Did too," grinned Keith.

"I demand a rematch," said Lance.

"Sure," chuckled Keith, and leaned in to kiss him again.  
  


*  
  
*  
  


"Aww, aren't they cute?" cooed Matt as he grabbed Rover and snapped a picture of the sleeping couple on the couch. He sent it to Pidge immediately after, considering the debt to his sister repaid now she had prime blackmail material of her friends.

Lance stirred, rubbing his eyes and stretching out while Keith gave the tiniest snarl, his head sliding off Lance's shoulder and onto his lap. Lance stared at the sleeping boy in his lap and then up at Matt, who was grinning at him and waggling his brows.

"Stop that, Matt," chuckled Shiro, playfully slapping Matt in the shoulder.

"Good morning, Shiro," said Sam, fresh out the bathroom after washing up. He looked at the four of them and decided he would be the nagging voice reminding them of their tasks ahead. "The pods should be ready now."

"We have two," said Matt. "One's for you, Shiro, and we've a spare one for Lance or Keith."

"Keith," said Lance. "I've been here only two weeks, I won't be in any danger leaving this place."

"Ugh," grumbled Keith, pushing himself out of Lance's lap, dazed and looking ready to drop back to unconsciousness.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," grinned Shiro.

"Go fuck yourself, Shiro," snapped Keith.

Lance stared at Keith in shock.

"Don't mind him," said Shiro. "He's an absolute grouch in the morning."

"Shut up," muttered Keith as he pulled on his gloves, boots and reached for his dagger out of habit. He stood up, standing with his arms folded, looking relatively awake. "Okay, what's the plan today?"

"Are you really awake?" teased Shiro.

Keith squinted at him, swaying slightly, and then yawned.

Lance watched on and had to press a hand to his mouth to stop squeeing. He knew Red was an adorable grump when he was sleepy, but watching him physically _be_  grumpy and adorable was too much.  
  


*  
  
*  
  


"So the plan is to have Lance get in the pod first, and come back for Keith later with a better pod that has hibernation functions," said Shiro. He shot Keith a look, who nodded and looked away. Shiro had divulged Keith's situation to Matt and they had decided this was probably the best course of action to take.

"Shouldn't Keith go first?" asked Lance. "I can still afford to stay out here a few more days. Wait. How many days have you been out here?"

"Just a little longer than you."

"Almost three weeks?"

Keith shrugged. Lance seemed to interpret that as a yes.

"That's why we're going to bring in the best equipment for him," said Matt.

Lance scratched his chin. "I guess that's sound."

"Let's do this, guys," said Matt, gesturing to the pods.

"Wait," said Shiro, noting Keith's puppy eyes in Lance's direction. "I think we should give them a little time alone."

"Not too long, though. Pidge will be waiting," said Sam.

"Pidge can wait fifteen minutes," said Shiro, nudging both Keith and Lance towards the front door. "Take all the time you need, boys."

"Smart of you not to let them have the bedroom," chirped Matt.

"Shut it, Pidgebot beta," groaned Lance.

"Keep it PG," smiled Sam.

"Damn Holts," muttered Keith under his breath as he grabbed Lance's hand and pulled him out to the porch and kicked the door shut on the trio.

"Still sleepy?" said Lance.

"Nah," said Keith, letting go of Lance's hand in favour of stretching and taking in the air that was beginning to warm.

"So," said Lance, rocking on his heels and jamming his hands into his jeans pockets. "You're staying put until we grab more equipment and coming back for you, huh."

"That's the plan," said Keith.

"Can't say I agree with it, but that sounds like the best we've got," said Lance.

"Well, I guess it's goodbye," said Keith, his shoulders dropping as he looked at Lance's face.

"For now," said Lance, giving him a shrug and a tired smile. "I'll leave Rover with you. Text me."

"I'm gonna miss you," said Keith, brows lifted and eyes fierce. If this was the last moment he could have with Lance, he wouldn't let it be sad.

"Woah, didn't peg you for the romantic one," said Lance, chuckling as he pulled his hands out of his pockets to hold Keith's. "I'm gonna miss you too, _sweetcheeks_."

Keith snorted, but he'd let that one slide. He had more important things to say.

"You'll be fine," said Keith. _Without me._  "You've saved Shiro and Pidge's family. You're amazing."

"Was that a backhanded compliment, cos, remember, you got here before I did," said Lance, sticking his tongue out defiantly.

"I couldn't do anything," Keith shook his head. "I was stuck here until you came along."

"Okay, so we did it together," said Lance.

"I guess so," conceded Keith.

"We make a great team," smiled Lance, leaning closer to bump foreheads with him.

"Wish I could see the colour of your eyes," murmured Keith, staring right into Lance's eyes. They were too close, and Lance's eyes began to cross trying to look at Keith's nose.

Keith chuckled, a throaty, half-muffled sound as he drew away.

"Come here," said Lance, opening up his arms, inviting Keith into his embrace. They hug, and Keith closed his eyes, trying to burn into his mind the feeling of this moment, since it might be the last time he'd get to hold Lance.

The door creaked open and Matt gave a ' _psst'_  to hurry them up.

"Coming!" yelled Lance.

Keith pulled away, looked into Lance's eyes once more and shrugged. "I guess this is it."

Lance took his hand and walked back into the shack, refusing to care what the others would think. Matt teased them with a whistle and a grin, and Lance held Keith's hand up like a trophy.

"Congratulations," said Shiro, the traitor, clapping and playing along with Matt.

"See you," said Lance, giving Keith the most cheerful smile he could conjure up as he stepped back into the pod prepared for him.

Keith took a step forward with him, and pressed a hand on his cheek. He couldn't find it in him to say anything, his throat beginning to choke up. He closed in and pressed a soft kiss on Lance's lips and smiled. Lance did so much for him. The least he could do was smile.

The pod closed. Lance's smile faded as induced sleep took over him.

The smile dropped from Keith's face as if it was never there.

"Keith," said Shiro, his jovial teasing smile gone as well. He wrapped his arms around Keith and firmly hugged him. "I'll come back for you, I promise."

"It's okay," said Keith. It wasn't. But it would have to be.

"If we have to, we'll take turns camping in here with you," said Matt, trying to give him some hope.

"Thanks," said Keith, grateful for the sentiment. These people were nothing but kind to him. They were family. He lightly punched the taller man in the shoulder. "Quit stalling and get in there, Shiro."

"Take care, buddy," said Shiro as he stepped into the pod. "We'll be back soon."  
  


*  
  
*  
  


Sam and Matt took the jeep, the frames set up to hold the pods while Keith guided them to the edge of the desert on his motorbike.

Keith watched on as the jeep drove out of the desert, a large van and a group of waiting for them. Garrison personnel guarded this exit but Green must have had secured permission to openly use it. She was resourceful. Lance and Shiro would be in good hands.

Even if they wouldn't remember him.

The guards noticed his presence but did not venture into the desert.

He watched as Pidge noticed and waved at him from afar. He raised his hand and held it there for a moment.  
  


_Goodbye.  
_

He turned his bike around, not stopping until he reached his shack.

He dismounted and out of habit, walked to the porch and sat on the stairs.  
  


_It's over.  
_

A wave of emotions crashed over him.  
  


Relief.  
  


Despair.  
  


He had never been more relieved to know that Shiro and Lance would be all right.  
  


He had never felt lonelier.  
  


He looked out at the vast desert. No one would hear him. No one could.  
  


He howled, screamed, pulled at his hair, scratched at his arms, letting out the anger and frustration, the grief and the despair; pouring all that he'd bottled up for months like a burst dam.  
  


 _Finally,_  he could cry.  
  


*

*  
  


_UserUnknown logged in  
_

_01:04 UserUnknown: green?_

_02:05 Green: red is that you? wait let me verify it's you although the chance of anyone hacking into server is abysmal but i am not taking the risk  
_

_Connecting and affirming location and status of Rover..._   
  


_Location and status confirmed  
_

_02:14 Green: ROVER POOR BABY HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I PINGED YOU PROPERLY I MISSED YOU SO MUCH_

_02:14 Green: oh right. almost forgot. gd to see u after so long, Red._   
  


_UserUnknown has changed their username to RedPilot19_   
  


_02:22 RedPilot19: it's not that long. i sent u weekly updates. also, rover is fine. [roverisfine.jpg]_

_02:27 Green: Aaaaaaaahhhh how i missed you my best n most precious puppers *kisses screen*_

_02:28 Green: updates on the weather n rocks dun count. you didn't even log in and answer my questions. dun think i'm forgiving you with this one measly photo of Rover_

_02:34 Green: it's taking a while to load. are you sending map updates? Yellow says thanks for taking the trouble to chart the daily energy readings. it's really useful for his research_

_02:45 RedPilot19: [rovercharging.jpg] [roveronthetable.jpg] [rovercloseup.jpg] sent_

_02:45 RedPilot19: tell yellow it's no problem i have nothing better to do here anyway_

_02:46 Green: Holy_

_02:46 Green: OK YOU ARE 99% FORGIVEN._

_02:51 RedPilot19: i don't need to login to send updates to ur server email. do u need more maps?_

_02:56 Green: u know that's not the point. we are all worried._

_02:57 Green: how dare you didn't tell us that going in and out of the haze causes disorienting effects. they all had temporary amnesia when they came out. had to jog their memories with footage and stuff. but they don't remember you. shiro only did after i showed him the photo._

_03:02 RedPilot19: so Blue doesn't remember? also, what photo?_

_03:07 Green: Blue remembers everything else but not meeting you. matt sent me a this photo he took with rover. [snugonacouch.jpg]_

_03:07 Green: shiro said not to show blue the photo cos he wants to respect your decision to do it yourself. you better be telling him soon or i'm doing it for you._

_03:12 RedPilot19: um, yeah, i'll tell Blue. Soon._

_03:13 RedPilot19: how's shiro?_

_03:18 Green: he's adapting pretty well actually to the crystal fused in his arm. it's like a faulty car engine sometimes and turns his arm purple but he's cool w it. Movement range increased by another 10% since last week. expected to recover at least 85% of original mobility by next month. it's interesting the energy readings are restricted to his arm and not spreading._

_03:18 Green: definitely can help you with what we learnt from him. this morning tho shiro just walked out of the room saying ''I AM FED UP OF BEING UR GUINEA PIG MATT HOLT I AM GOING OUT FOR ICE CREAM AND U ARE NOT GETTING ANY'  it was hilarious_

_03:24 RedPilot19: hah good to hear_

_03:29 Green: so, can we arrange to bring you in? we need to find out exactly which parts of you are affected and how the crystal bits are fused_

_03:34 RedPilot19: how are my chances of survival? be honest_

_03:40 Green: i really don't know. but there is definitely something we can do about it. come back here, give us some time to work on it and we'll figure it out together, okay?_

_03:48 Green: Red?_

_03:55 Green: if ur ignoring me i will make rover pee on you_

_04:15 RedPilot19: i'll think about it. thanks, green._

_04:19 RedPilot19: ...Rover is leaking lubrication fluid on my leg_  
  
  
*

*  
  


And he did think about it. After two more violet sunsets, he decided it was enough.

Connecting to his workstation, he logged in and checked the last time he messaged Blue. He absently checked the date, closed his eyes and took a breath to ready himself.

  
_RedPilot19 has changed their username to RedPilot20  
_

_RedPilot20 > BlueSharpshooter18_

_22:32 RedPilot20: hey_

_22:39 BlueSharpshooter18: RED? I haven't heard from you since before Operation Desert Dream! omg i'm so glad ur okay!_

_22:39 BlueSharpshooter18: r u really ok tho? pls pls pls tell me you are_

_22:44 RedPilot20: lol i'm fine. sorry i didn't contact you for so long. i lost connection for a while._

_22:50 BlueSharpshooter18: you lost connection? that was it? no big grand garrison conspiracy? the aliens didn't kidnapped you?_

_22:55 RedPilot20: do you remember what happened in the desert?_

_23:01 BlueSharpshooter18: i think i remembered most of it. Hey how did you know i went there? Green told you?_

_23:06 RedPilot20: something like that._

_23:11 BlueSharpshooter18: was the weird amnesia thing something that happened to you too when you went in and out of the purple alien haze?_

_23:17 RedPilot20: yeah, all the time. i kept notes and i usually remember everything after i go back in anyway._

_23:22 BlueSharpshooter18: and you didn't mention that to us_

_23:27 RedPilot20: i forgot_

_23:32 BlueSharpshooter18: haha very funny_

_23:33 BlueSharpshooter18: so hey, wanna meet up? I mean, we don't have to if you don't want to, but i'm feeling that feeling where  i really need to treasure the people around me_

_23:33 BlueSharpshooter18: you know, that thing you feel when you've been through something kinda dangerous. well i guess you do know seeing how often you go into the desert risking your life. so yeah, wanna meet up and let me show you how good a friend i can be?_

_23:38 RedPilot20: sure_

_23:43 BlueSharpshooter18: THAT WAS TOO EASY._

_23:48 RedPilot20: 12:00 tomorrow outside gate 4. get green to open it_

_23:53 BlueSharpshooter18: that gate is always guarded, man. i'm sure green can do something about getting permission but why do you need it open? if you have cargo we can use the tunnel. it's wide enough for my jeep. and noon huh. broad daylight. you planning on a grand entrance after dkfjghkfj wai_

_23:53 BlueSharpshooter18: WAIT_

_23:53 BlueSharpshooter18: YOU CHANGED YOUR USERNAME HOW IS IT I ONLY NOTICE IT NOW_

_23:54 BlueSharpshooter18: IS IT YOUR BDAY_

_23:59 RedPilot20: no, that was a month ago_

_00:04 BlueSharpshooter18: doesn't matter. i'm gonna throw you a bday party tomorrow_

_00:04 BlueSharpshooter18: but really, why gate 4?_

_00:09 RedPilot20: I just want to see the blue sky_

_00:14 BlueSharpshooter18: that line sounds really familiar. like you've said it to me before but i don't think you did._

_00:15 BlueSharpshooter18: do i know you from somewhere already?_

_00:20 RedPilot20: just be there. please._

_00:25 BlueSharpshooter18: i'll be there, i promise ;)_

_00:34 RedPilot20: see you_  
  
  
*  
  
*  
  


Pidge didn't look too happy with the news.

"And you think to tell me this now? Why didn't you tell him to wait? We barely have enough time to prepare," scowled Pidge as she quickly shot out messages and sent out emergency signals to Shiro and Hunk.

"Well, it's just a meetup, isn't it? I gave you a two-hour heads up. If you don't want to come, I'll just go by myself," said Lance.

Pidge groaned and muttered a curse. "This is why I said to Shiro we should've just told you in the beginning."

"Tell me what?"

"You— _we_  left Red behind in that desert, Lance," said Pidge. "He didn't come out with us."

"Red didn't come out with us?" said Lance, his brows furrowing as he had a sinking feeling that he knew but couldn't put a face to it yet.

Pidge bit her lip. There was no time. She tapped a button and sent the photo to Lance's tablet. Deciding she didn't want to be around when Lance freaked out, she left the room to gather the best medical crew and equipment she could get.

Lance's tablet beeped as the file got through. A tap, and the photo blew up, taking over the screen.

He was leaning back on a shabby couch fast asleep, his favourite blanket draped over his lap and someone else's. A dark-haired teen quiet and at peace, half curled up against him, a picture of bliss.

He pressed his hand against his mouth and took deep breaths as the memories came flooding back, like he was finally able to put the missing pieces of a jigsaw in to complete the whole picture.

He pulled up the chat he had with Red last night and sent a message.  
  


_10:03 BlueSharpshooter18: I remember everything_

_10:04 BlueSharpshooter18: why didn't anyone tell me_

_10:04 BlueSharpshooter18: i...we just left you for over a month in there. by yourself._

_10:05 BlueSharpshooter18: why didnt you say anything_

_10:10 BlueSharpshooter18: Keith?  
_

There was no reply

  
*  
  


There had been a short delay with the pod preparations and logistics. Lance didn't want Keith to see nobody there by the promised time, so he decided to go ahead of them.

  
*  
  


Perched on rock, he watched with binoculars the familiar jeep approach the gate. A short pause, and the guards waved for the gate to be opened. Once he saw it was Lance, his heart soared.

  
Keith couldn't wait. Not even a second longer.

He dropped everything and hopped onto his bike.

He didn't care anymore.

He broke through the violet barrier.

The world transitioned from a violet fog to a world of colour.

He sped past the opened gate.

Lance was in sight. He kicked the brakes, skidding to a stop metres from Lance. He jumped off and let his bike fall to ground. He didn't spare it a backward glance.

He had minutes, maybe seconds.

"What the—" gasped Lance as Keith slammed into him, sending the both of them staggering back.

"Hey," breathed Keith, beaming from ear to ear.

"Hey," whispered Lance, eyes widened in surprise. It took two seconds before he realised Keith wasn't supposed to be out here. "Oh shit. Why are you out here? You shouldn't—"

"It's okay."

"No, Keith, you shouldn't be here," said Lance. He's beginning to panic. He looked behind him, and not seeing what he was looking for made him shake, his breath hitching and stuttering as he muttered how Pidge was probably just a couple of minutes away and should hurry the hell up.

"Shh," hushed Keith. Everything seemed louder, clearer out here. Too much colour. Too much noise. He pushed it all away, cupping Lance's cheeks in his hands and asked for the one thing he wanted.

"Let me see your eyes."

He could feel a tight sensation in his chest and a growing roar in his ears. He was running out of time. Lance's brows were furrowed, his eyes wide and unblinking in shock.

"They're really blue," whispered Keith.

"Of course they are," said Lance, his gaze softening under Keith's reassuring smile.

He smiled back, a slightly crooked smirk and all Keith could think of was how beautiful Lance was. Brown hair, blue eyes, all the colours he never thought he'd see again.

His vision was blurring, and he stared, trying to get his eyes to focus. The thundering in his ears was drowning out all other sounds. He could see Lance talking, but he couldn't hear his voice.

Numbness crept up his arms and legs. He couldn't feel his fingers anymore. His mouth felt dry, his lungs empty. He took quicker breaths but air just wasn't going in; wasn't getting to where he needed it. He needed to breathe, but it was like there was no oxygen in the air.

Sharp, tearing pain filled his chest and he gasped, unable to close his mouth as he reached for air. White spots danced in front of his vision.  


_Just one more second._  


His vision was turning dark. He had one last chance to look at the skies. He held on, refusing to move his gaze away from those blue eyes even as he felt his body turn cold and heavy.  


_Please, just one more second._

  
The sky can wait.

  
*  
  


Lance hadn't expected Keith to come _flying_ out of the barrier, through the gate and barreling right into his arms. It took him everything not to fall over, staggering back and firmly holding onto Keith.

He was speechless as he stared into those dark, stormy eyes looking right back at him.

And then Keith smiled really brightly.

Lance blinked and uttered some random greeting in return. For a moment, he couldn't remember what he was supposed to be doing.

And then he remembered.

"Oh shit. Why are you out here? You shouldn't—"

Keith cut him off, assuring him it was okay. He wanted to believe that smile, but Keith shouldn't be out here. Pidge's plan had been to get in there, put the desert dweller in a pod and cart him out.

Desert dweller, chuckled Lance inwardly. Then the flash of mirth turned grim almost instantly. Keith needed to be in the desert, in the purple haze, not out here.

Pidge wasn't here yet.

Lance turned to look for signs of the truck. There was none. Shit. He began to panic.

Keith was going to—wait, he looked fine so far. Maybe he really was okay. Maybe they could afford to wait.

"They're really blue," whispered Keith, his voice too quiet, too peaceful, too... _not-Red_. What—how else could Lance answer but of course his eyes were blue? Keith was smiling. Maybe he was all right.

Lance reciprocated, giving his signature smirk—a cocked eyebrow and a charming grin.

The dark-haired boy gave a voiceless laugh like he didn't have a single worry in the world even as he trembled in Lance's arms. He could hardly stand or move. And then it went downhill from there.

Keith's eyes grew unfocused, his mouth half-open and gulping breaths like a fish out of water. He never looked away even as his hands grew colder. It was like he couldn't breathe, like he was choking on air itself. And Lance could only watch helplessly as the boy in his arms struggled to _live_.

"No, nonono," said Lance as he tightened his hold around Keith, who was going slack, unable to support his own weight. His eyes were stubborn, never closing, stormy glass turning dull and still as the gasping for breath slowed.

And stopped.

This was worse than what he could've imagined. Lance held on tighter and looked behind him.

The truck was pulling up behind him, Pidge walking up to him like there wasn't a dying boy in his arms.

"PIDGE!" screamed Lance. Pidge froze in her step and adjusted her glasses to observe what was happening. She ran back to the truck and yelled instructions at the crew to get the equipment out.

Shiro ran up to Lance, gently but firmly pulling the weight off Lance's shoulders.

"He's—" stuttered Lance, his heart sinking and his hands shaking, "he's not breathing. He's not—he's not _anything_ —just—" he took a shaky breath, on the verge of shattering—"Just help him. Please."

Lance watched as Shiro laid the unmoving boy onto the ground.

Shiro pulled out a knife from Keith's belt and cut up the shirt in a quick slice and turned him over. Lance could see a small bump in Keith's back—small, dull and purple. He hadn't thought much of it until now and clapped a hand over his mouth when he realised Keith had something in his chest. Which meant he had been injured. Through the heart.

"I'm gonna try something," said Shiro, his lips tight and grim as he gave Lance a look. "It might not work, but there's nothing to lose."

Lance nodded.

Shiro's right arm began to glow purple, and Lance could see the part where crystal fused into muscle. He pressed his hand onto Keith's back, watching the purple spark the crystal over. As if trying to ignite an engine, Shiro focused. Pidge had the equipment ready, and one look at Shiro told her of his plan, and she pushed out machines and set up the equipment on the spot, not wasting the precious seconds Shiro was probably buying for them.  
  


*

*

Keith woke up and saw the white ceiling and sunlight glaring through the window, heating up a side of his face.

 _Huh,_ he thought, _it's not violet, or purple._

He wondered if he was dreaming. He didn't believe in an afterlife, but if it was, he was glad it wasn't violet. He squinted and turned his head to look away, and felt his ears twitch. His mouth felt really dry and he coughed.

Someone next to him groaned, stirring.

Keith blinked, slowly letting his eyes adjust to the daylight.

Shiro mumbled something to himself as he rubbed his face and went through a practised motion of checking the drip and the monitors, and when he checked on Keith, he froze when someone who should be comatose blinked at him.

"You're awake?" said Shiro, rubbing his face again to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Yeah," croaked Keith, his voice not really there. Shiro swiftly helped him to sit up, propping pillows behind his head, and grabbed a glass of water, bringing it to his lips. The cool liquid eased his throat and tasted amazing. Keith licked his lips. How long has it been since he'd actually tasted anything?

"I'll call the others," said Shiro, making to leave his bedside.

"No!" said Keith, his voice still raspy. He drew back to himself and shook his head, repeating himself. "No."

"Why?" asked Shiro.

Keith brought a hand up to his ear and bit his lips as he felt the velvety fur on it. His teeth was sharp and nicked his dry skin. He could taste copper.

"Everyone already knows about your situation," coaxed Shiro. Perhaps Keith was self-conscious. "No one thinks of you differently for it."

"Just—" tried Keith, working the words around his slightly elongated canines—"just give me a moment."

"All right," said Shiro. "Do you want me to leave?"

Keith shook his head again. He didn't want to be left behind. Not again.

Shiro shifted the chair and sat down, making himself comfortable.

"How...where am I?"

"Garrison. One of the observation wards," said Shiro. "Sam and Matt managed to make them offer us their facilities."

Keith nodded.

"So—" Shiro folded his arms and leaned back on the chair, and Keith knew the inevitable question was coming—"care to explain what you were thinking, pulling off a stunt like that?"

Keith had the answer. He had had a long time to think about it after all.

"My chances of surviving either way was low, so if that was the case, I'd rather it be on my own terms," said Keith.

"I'm not saying you're wrong," sighed Shiro. "I understand where you're coming from, but you're still going to have to apologise to the others because they're really worried about you."

"Yeah," said Keith, looking the machines around and connected to him. It must have taken the others a lot of work to keep him alive. He was nothing but trouble for them. And given his current form, he probably won't cease to be. "I'm really sorry. I'll find a way to pay you guys back. I can still run missions or something."

Shiro rolled his eyes. "As much as I'd like to tell you that you're like a brother to me, and being a brother meant that I love you unconditionally, I have a feeling that won't really sink in for you, so I'm going to just leave it to Lance."

Keith could feel the aches begin to really sink in now his muscles were straining to keep him seated.

"How long was I out?" asked Keith.

"Long enough," said Shiro, shaking his head. He took Keith's hand and began to work on moving his arm. "Come on, we'll get you stretched out and you can go back to rest."  
  


*  
  
*  
  


It took two days and a few more sessions of trying to stretch on his own before Keith felt comfortable enough to see someone other than Shiro. He was back on semi-solid foods and refused to wear anything that resembled a hospital gown, so Shiro lent him a shirt and sweatpants that hung loosely on his frame.

Shiro had filled him in on the details of his recovery with notes from Pidge. It made for pretty dry reading, but he got the general idea.

Pidge had managed to put him in a hibernation pod and with Shiro's help, the crystals shards in him were kept activated to keep him alive. They ran a scan to see how to remove the shards from him but were surprised to see that the largest one in his heart had all but dissolved in his blood. And that kept his organs working.

His bloodwork showed he wasn't fully human. He was basically half-alien.

Which explained why his physical change was so drastic compared to Shiro's. There were still many mysteries, but Pidge, Matt and Sam now had a team to study it at the Garrison.

Investigations showed that the Kerberos shuttle had saved Earth from much more damage by slowing the meteorite's descent thanks to Shiro's quick thinking and the team's willingness to sacrifice themselves. The Garrison accepted the investigation results, reinstating full status and rank back to Shiro and the team with a private apology.

They made public the team's sacrifice and soon, Shiro and the others were hailed as heroes.

"Shiro the hero, huh," said Keith as he scrolled down the news on the tablet.

Shiro set his wallet and keys on the bedside table and walked over to draw the curtains open. "Pidge would have the Garrison issue a public apology instead of shamelessly trying to take credit for the team's work but I managed to persuade her into channelling that vengeance into wrangling more equipment for our future projects."

"Make sure the Garrison pays for it," added Keith. "She's not the only one with a vengeance."

"I'll make sure of that, buddy," smiled Shiro as he ruffled Keith's hair. His ears were in the way and Shiro tried to scratch them, earning a hiss and an attempted bite at his hand.

"Looking good, Red," grinned Lance as he entered the room, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Thanks, Blue," said Keith, smiling back. Regardless of how he felt about it, he was grateful he could see Lance again. He stood up, his legs wobbly but getting better every time he worked it.

"Okay, I know when I'm not needed here," said Shiro, his hands up in mock surrender as he moved out of the way, grabbing his wallet and keys from the seat.

"Leave your wallet," growled Keith.

Shiro snorted a laugh through his nose and took a card out from his wallet and tossed it at him. He caught it and quickly stuffed it into his pocket.

"Spend responsibly, kid," chuckled Shiro as he threw them both a playful two-fingered salute and left the room.

Lance set the bouquet of flowers on the empty bed. His smile dropped, trembling lips and furrowed brows taking its place as he took large strides over to Keith and threw his arms around the dark-haired boy.

"I'm sorry," said Keith before Lance could get angry at him.

"Yeah, you should be," said Lance, and his slightly choked voice made it come out a little too harsh, because Keith stiffened in his arms. He rubbed Keith's back, afraid Keith would go cold and limp in his arms like the last time.

"I promise I'll make it up to you any way I can," said Keith. "I might be stuck looking like this but I can still do a lot."

"I'm holding you to that," said Lance. He cleared his throat and Keith gulped at the ominously stern look on Lance's face.

"The first thing I need you to do is not die on me when you're in my arms, you fucking asshole. I don't think I'll ever get over that scare and it's all your fault."

"Okay," said Keith. That he could do. He could always pick a ditch if he had to—

"Just don't die, period," said Lance, as if he could pick up on his train of thought. Keith had no intention of giving up his life now he was out here with a window and blue skies waiting outside.

"I'll try my best," said Keith. He couldn't promise, but he could try. He would try. For Lance.

"And you gotta let me play with your ears because they're the cutest things I've ever seen," sniffled Lance, the hard look melting from his eyes.

"Sure," said Keith, complying easily.

"Now let me cuddle you, wolf-boy."

Keith huffed a chuckle and slumped against Lance, nuzzling his ear against the very-slightly-taller boy's cheek. It felt good to be accepted without question, as if being a living, breathing desert crytid was as natural as the sun rising every morning.

"Pidge said there should be a way for you to at least shift between forms," murmured Lance as he brought a hand up to stroke those soft, fluffy ears.

"Even if I can't, it'll be fine," said Keith, pulling away just enough to gaze fondly into Lance's eyes—and Lance realised those eyes were the colour of a beautiful, setting sun—"I'm alive and I got to see you again. I—I'm pretty okay with this."

"Shit," mumbled Lance. "I'm supposed to be comforting you and you had to go say something like this to make me cry."

Keith snorted, unafraid of Lance's accusations, throwing out a challenge instead, "Comfort me, then."

"Well, since you're begging for it," huffed Lance, backing them over to the bed and letting his 'patient' take a seat, his arms resting on Keith's shoulders instead. "Hi, Keith. I'm Doctor Lance, your personal therapist for today. How are you feeling?"

"Like I just got out from a dream," chuckled Keith, sliding his arms around Lance's waist. "It's too good to be real. You?"

"Me too," agreed Lance. "It's not every day I get to date a rare desert cryptid."

"Is this a date?"

"If you want it to be," said Lance, rubbing the back of Keith's neck. "I have flowers and everything. My jeep's parked outside."

The hands resting on his waist shifted down south to rest on his hips. Lance clapped a hand over one of them to make it _stay there_.

"Dinner's on Shiro," offered Keith, itching to leave and see the sky.

"Never heard a better plan," smirked Lance, taking a step away and holding out a hand as if asking for a dance. Keith gave him a look, then took his hand and stood up. He leaned in and planted a light kiss on Lance's cheek, enjoying the way the lanky boy blushed at the small gesture.

They giggled as they walked out the door, hand in hand. Scared and excited, their time in the desert behind them like a dream they had freshly woken up from.

  
They weren't going back to sleep anytime soon.

 

_~fin~_

**Author's Note:**

> Wonderful art by @Pabloura! So lucky to have them as my artist! :D  
> Please don't repost the artwork above! Instead, go to their [tumblr](http://auroura101.tumblr.com/post/169367993262/) to view the full-size illustrations and reblog from them!
> 
> I imagine Lance taking Keith in a hoodie out at a diner's and a kid next table goes 'cool makeup and ears!' and Lance will go 'he looks great doesn't he!" and give the kid a thumb's up. Keith will smack Lance under the table with his tail.
> 
> The person who suffered the most in this fic is not Keith or Lance. It's Shiro. This boy needs to catch a break. From crashing a shuttle to breaking an arm to becoming Pidge/Matt's guinea pig and taking care of Keith, he's the true MVP.
> 
> As usual, editing and checking for mistakes will still occur over the next couple of weeks so i apologise in advance if there are a lot orz XD There are probably still some minor inconsistencies and deets i still need to work out a bit but for now, i sleep~ :D


End file.
